


Second Chances

by SundayMoon



Series: The Smallest Clan [6]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 13:42:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8374291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SundayMoon/pseuds/SundayMoon
Summary: The Uchiha Clan gains a new member





	

Sarada blatantly scanned over her mother for the third time, her eyes Sharingan red for this final sweep. With an exasperated sigh, Sakura shut the medical tome with a slam, “Sweetheart, if you have something to say, say it!”

Sarada grinned; her mother was as predictable as Boruto at times, although she hid it better. Sakura never could stand someone so clearly repressing a question or concern.

“So,” Sarada said, voice droll and casual, “When were you going to tell me you're pregnant?”

Sakura spluttered and flushed clear from her chest to her roots. Sarada smirked gleefully (a patented Uchiha facial expression she’d managed to pick up disturbingly quickly once her father returned to the village) and contemplated the wisdom of pointing out how her mother resembled a human-shaped mango when her blush blended with her bright pink hair and yellowish skin. As her mother’s frantic maybe-words continued, she stayed wisely silent.

“I am not pregnant!” Sakura finally spit out. Sarada rolled her still red eyes, feeling twelve again as she argued in her mother's kitchen. Nevermind that she was eighteen, a Jounin, and a Clan Head.

“Mama, I may not have your medical prowess, but I know enough to know that the extra chakra I can see in your stomach region belongs to another person,” Sarada said, exasperated. Her mother gasped as she flooded her body win a diagnostic jutsu. Sarada allowed her eyes to fade to black under the bright onslaught.

“Oh,” Sakura said, hand settling on her stomach, “Oh.”

Sarada smiled softly at the wonder in her mother's tone. “You're getting sloppy if you can't even recognize a pregnancy in yourself,” Sarada teased, tone as tender as her smile.

“Well, I am almost forty,” Sakura said dryly, “I expected to become a grandmother in the next five years, not a mother again.”

Sarada wrinkled her nose and scoffed, “None of that, now. You just enjoy my little brother or sister and leave me be.”

Sakura’s eyes flooded with tears. Sarada widened in response as she wished, desperately, that the Sharingan could find someone as easy as the Byakugan. Or she’d signed that stupid hawk summoning contract a few years ago. She’d been too damn stubborn at the time, and too determined not to give into something Boruto wanted her to do (irony of ironies), but her own personal messengers would come in handy right about now. She needed to find her father. (Well, summon him. She knew he and Naruto were pretending to work at Hokage Tower like normal.) Adult or no, crying parents were not in her job description.

With a wet sob, Sakura flung herself from the armchair to the couch and clutched Sarada to her chest, “You're going to have a little brother or sister!” Sarada wheezed.

“Mama, I'm as excited as you, I promise. But I need to breathe,” Sakura let go with a wet chuckle. She smoothed Saradas hair back from her face and cupped her cheek like she'd done with Sarada was too small reach past her mother’s knee. Sarada flushed with pleasure at the almost forgotten feeling.

“Oh, baby. Being your parents is the greatest joy your father and I have ever had. Do you know I've only seen your father cry twice? One was when he held you for the first time. He swore Karen to secrecy,” Sakura finished teasingly, although she continued to cry silently. Sarada absentmindedly filed away that Sasuke had cried twice, “But being a shinobi had to be as important as being a parent at times, and we never thought we'd have this again. Your father has never said it, but I know he always wanted you to have a sibling. To rebuild the clan, yes. But mostly so you could have the relationship he lost.”

Then Sarada was crying, dammit, “It won't be quite the same, Mom. I'm an adult already. But I'll protect him with my life.” Sarada finished fiercely, looking every bit the Jounin that she was.

Sakura brushed her thumb over Sarada’s cheek one last time before rubbing away her own tears, “Him, huh?”

Sarada blushed and averted her eyes, “Him. I don't know how I know, but I do.”

Sakura pursed her lips, “From my brief glance it looks like I'm about six weeks along. We've got a while yet before we know the gender. But we can stick with ‘him’ for now.”

Saradas blindingly happy smile turned mischievous, suddenly glad her father hadn’t burst in yet. “Speaking of him,” Sarada said innocently, “Can I tell Papa?”

Sakura opened her mouth to protest, considered her daughter's expression, and snapped it shut, “I can already tell I don't want to expel the energy that it will take to stop you. Try not to land your father in the hospital. Or yourself.”

“Mother, I am scandalized!” Sarada clutched her chest and fluttered her eyebrows, “Insulted!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sakura said, bored, as she made her way into the kitchen, “I'm going to reward myself with some celebratory dango. Just do what you will and remember what I said.”

Sakura valiantly ignored her daughter’s cackling as Sarada made her way to the front of her parents home and settled on their fence. It was her own fault, really, for exposing Sarada to Naruto and Sai during her formative years. Much less Kakashi-jii’s “babysitting duty”, which mostly just consisted of running around the tower and using a delighted baby Sarada to ‘keep people on their toes’.

Really, Sarada reflected, if her family was normal her mother likely would've run down to the tower to break the news to her husband herself. As it stood, she was a forty-year-old ninja, head of the hospital, and now a mother twice over. She didn't get the same glee out of these youthful moments as Sarada did. Sarada was doing her a favor.

After what felt like years but was likely an hour at most, Sasuke landed soundlessly in front of his waiting daughter and raised in eyebrow lightly in a show of expression that equated to a yell of surprise on a normal person.

“Hi, Papa,” Sarada greeted innocently. Sasuke's mouth tightened slightly, too subtle for most people to catch but loud as a horn to Sarada.

“You're not with Boruto,” Not framed as a question, but one all the same.

“No,” Sarada said gravely, eyes twinkling, “I stopped by for tea with Mama, and I stayed so we could play a game.”

“A game?” Sasuke asked incredulously, his Sharingan flickering on. Sarada rolled her eyes at the dramatics.

“I'm me, calm down. Yes, a game. Indulge me.” Sarada commanded stepping closer to her father to lay a hand on his shoulder. Sasuke's eyes softened.

“Alright,” He conceded. His eyes began to fade but Sarada shook her head and tapped the side of her nose; their sign to activate the Sharingan. Sasuke sighed but kept it on.

“Good,” Sarada chirped, “Now, I have a present for you. Mama’s keeping a hold of it for now. The game is simple: find Mama and figure out what it is without removing it.”

Sasuke's expression was that of a long-suffering parent, but Sarada merely beamed and ushered him inside, “Go on! Isn't this fun?” Sasuke didn't reply as he moved into the house, stepped out of his sandals, and shuffled towards Sakura’s clear humming in the kitchen. Sarada resisted the urge to cackle again.

“Oh, Sasuke,” Sakura’s cheeks were still a bit too dewy and her eyes a bit too bright to be normal. But Sasuke didn't even notice, Sharingan trained firmly on her stomach.

“Is that…?” Sasuke's voice was filled with wonder in a way Sarada had never heard. Of course he’d recognize the difference more quickly than Sarada had; he’d seen it before. Inexplicably, Sarada suddenly felt like she was an intruder in her own family home.

“We're going to have a baby, Sasuke-kun,” Sakura breathed, cupping his cheek as he fell to his knees. Hesitantly he laid his hand on her flat stomach. The girls held their breath, waiting for another reaction. Sasuke breathed deeply once, twice, then laid his forehead softly on his wife's stomach.

“Thank you,” He murmured, voice choked. Sarada couldn't decide if she wanted to throw her arms around him or run for the hills. Luckily, Sakura decided for her. With a pointed finger, Sakura beckoned her daughter to her father's side. Not sure if she was welcome, Sarada sank lightly to her knees.

“Papa?”

Sasuke turned so his cheek barely brushed Sakura, and said, so fiercely that Sarada burned with it, “I will not leave this child as I left you. And I will spend every day along the way making it up to you both, I swear on my honor.”

Sarada is not ashamed to admit that she sobbed. Her father's lone arm wrapped around both his girls and her mother settled, a warm and steady heat, against her back. Sarada couldn't help but think that she was glad for all her extended family, little shits or not. If not for them, she may have left so her parents could have a private moment. But now, feeling warmer, younger, and safer than she had since she was an academy student, she wouldn't change anything for the world.

 

Sachio Uchiha was born seven months later, with a stock of hair as soft and colored as a rose petal. For nearly three weeks after, there was a Hokage sized hole in the side of Kohona hospital.


End file.
